What Leroy Jethro Gibbs Saw
by madame.alexandra
Summary: Somewhere along the way, our favorite ex-Marine had to discover his daughter wasn't a virgin-the fact that he held on to the belief that she was even after her two children...well, that is a whole different story. AU/LBSF Tag


_A/N: It hath been a while since a LB/SF tag-matter of fact, it has beeen a while since *anything* from little ole' me. :D  
>Well, uh, here's something. You know, a little comical nonsense. Poor AU Jethro!<em>

* * *

><p>He was told he could drop by anytime.<p>

Therefore, he had no reason to believe that, by walking into his daughter's house, he would be accosted by the single most horrifying, most mentally devastating sight of his life.

He was just innocently picking up Lucy's doll.

She had been whining and pouting about the forgotten doll for two days, so it was Daddy to the rescue.

It was a perfectly normal, nice, sunny Tuesday afternoon.

Leroy Jethro Gibbs was none the wiser that this particular Tuesday was about to combust into the absolute worst day of his life.

And all he did to ignite the flame was walk through the front door of Kelly and Tim's (oddly) quiet house, through the kitchen, and into the family room, shouting a casual '_hello'_. He found no sight of Lucy's doll, so, naturally, he walked down the hall and pushed open the bedroom door to search for Kelly, intent on asking—

-and that is precisely when his entire world went to hell and he almost had a heart attack on the spot.

He stood and stared in complete shock for a total of four seconds, realized exactly what was going on, and slammed the door shut so quickly his daughter had not even finished screaming at him to _GET OUT_.

He left so fast, he forgot utterly and completely about Lucy's doll—he was too busy trying to erase the image of Kelly and Tim from where it had been branded into his eyelids.

* * *

><p>He was determined not to speak or look petrified when he walked in his house. He succeeded brilliantly at the first—<p>

"Da Da?" Lucy's curly red head popped up over the back of the couch, her voice ea high-pitched, inquiring squeak. She leapt up, nearly diving over the couch.

With ease, her mother thrust out an arm and held her back, hardly even wincing as she did so. Jenny Gibbs, nee Shepard, turned and gave a quick glance at Jethro, affecting a brief double take.

"What is wrong with you? You look like you've seen DiNozzo in a thong," she remarked, snorting in amusement at herself.

Jethro was unnerved by the fact that his first thought was the decision that he'd rather have seen that.

He dragged his feet over to the living room and promptly laid down on the floor, face down, a perfect picture of desolate fatherhood. Jenny glanced down from the book she was reading, crossed her legs, and ignored him.

"Da Da?" asked Lucy, curiously.

She stared down at him from the couch and then climbed off of it clumsily, cocking her head at him.

"Da Da!" she shrieked happily.

Jenny rolled her eyes.

"Da Da," whispered Lucy. She poked him in the back, crouching down.

"Do not humor your father, Luce," Jenny said mildly. She looked over her book again and raised an eyebrow; surprised Jethro had not yet snatched up Lucy and begun to tickle her madly.

"Bet-see," said the two-year-old insistently. "Mama, Bet-see?"

Betsy was the doll's name.

"Daddy got Betsy," Jenny said, nodding at her prostrate husband. She reached out with her foot and kicked him in the hip mercilessly.

"Da Da _died_," gasped Lucy fearfully.

"Oh, he's fine, baby," Jenny soothed. "Jethro. Where is my child's doll?" she demanded, glaring at his back.

Jethro answered, but it was muffled an incoherent.

"Thanks, Jethro, I'm sure the carpet heard that loud and clear," Jenny retorted sarcastically. She put her book down.

He lifted his head slightly.

"Couldn't find her," he said morosely.

Jenny frowned, and glanced hesitantly at Lucy. The toddler looked confused, looking between both of her parents with big, curious blue eyes.

"No Bet-see?" she asked, her lip trembling.

"We'll just have to get her another time, sweetheart," Jenny tried sympathetically.

Lucy stamped her foot, her face crumpling.

"No! Now!" she shouted, tears swimming in her eyes. She reached down and struck Jethro in the shoulder, glaring at him in her own little way. "Mean Da Da!" she accused pitifully.

"Lucy James," barked Jenny, on her feet instantly. "That is not how we thank Daddy for going all the way to Kelly's house to find Betsy," she scolded, lifting the crying little girl up with a no-nonsense look on her face.

Lucy buried her face in Jenny's shoulder and sobbed.

"_Spank_ Daddy!" shrieked Lucy angrily.

"No ma'am," responded Jenny, hauling her off to the nursery for a time out. Lucy was tired and ready for a nap anyway. She was either going to fall asleep in time out, or think about her actions, and then apologize to Daddy for hitting.

And in the meantime, Jenny was going to go abuse whatever was bothering Jethro out of him.

* * *

><p>"Husband," Jenny growled, standing over him and nudging the top of his head with her foot. She crossed her arms, businesslike. "What is the reason for your current behavior?" she demanded.<p>

She waited a few seconds. Jethro covered his head to protect from further kicks.

Jenny glared.

"Answering my question was not optional. Or do you mistakenly think our marriage means you have choices?"

Jethro made an irritated noise and then answered, his voice once again muffled.

"I am starting to think you and that carpet are sharing secrets," mocked Jenny. She crouched down and ran her fingers deceptively gently through his silvery hair. Then she yanked his head up.

"What. Is. Your. Problem?" she demanded, lifting an eyebrow. "Enlighten me, or I will allow Lucy to smack you again."

"I walked in on Kelly and Tim."

Jenny blinked at him, uncomprehending for a minute.

"You went to _their_ house, _why_ is that surprising?" she asked blankly.

He gave her an annoyed look, waiting. A wicked look crossed her face as realization dawned.

"Oh," she said. "Oh, _my_," she gasped, arching her pretty eyebrows.

She smirked.

"You saw them having sex?" she asked smugly.

He glared at her darkly. No, it was more like, weakly, and with much anxiety.

"It's not funny," he snapped.

"Yes it is."

"No," he growled.

"Oh. _Yes_."

She sat down against the couch, setting his head back down gently and patting him with a patronizing touch. She waited a moment, and made sure he heard her snickering.

"Will you sit up, you melodramatic pantywaist?" she asked abrasively.

He pushed up on his arms and stared at her, his eyes narrow.

"_What_ did you call me?" he demanded, outraged.

She lifted a shoulder primly, and turned up her nose, refusing to repeat it. Jethro didn't quite sit up; he rolled over and flopped into her lap, rubbing his face forlornly with his hand. His knees pointed to the ceiling as he lay on his back, bemoaning his general existence.

"I am traumatized," he growled. "Worse than PTSD."

Jenny knit her brows.

"Why is that?" she asked sweetly. "Was there something unnatural about their sexual activity? Say, an unorthodox posit—"

"JEN!" he howled, giving her some mix between an outraged and a horrified glare.

She cackled. Bad as it might be for Jethro, this was perhaps one of the most hilarious days of her life, as of two minutes ago.

"Forgive me, Jethro; I am simply having a hard time comprehending why you think it is so mind-numbingly catastrophic that your married-with-two-kids daughter was fucking her husband."

He spluttered at her incoherently for a minute, and then he reached over and pinched her. _Pinched_ her like an offended, immature child. Immediately, in retaliation, Jenny slapped his hand and then pulled his hair, glaring, in outrage.

"I didn't need to see it!" he moaned.

"Seeing is believing," Jenny sing-songed, grinning wickedly.

He rubbed the spot on his head that throbbed from her yanking, muttering angrily under his breath. He shuddered, closing his eyes in agony at the memory. Kelly's mortified, bewildered face. And Tim, that _bastard_, so busy _defiling_ her that—

"Awwww, honey," soothed Jenny mockingly. "How can I make it better?" she mused playfully, tilting her head at him. "Want me to arrange for them to catch us going at it?" she asked blithely.

He stared at her in disbelief.

"I want a divorce."

"HA!" she laughed, her eyes lighting up. "You would shrivel into a ball of nothing and die, heartbroken, an empty shell of yourself, if you didn't have me."

He blinked, silently acknowledging that she was probably right. He sat up, shoulders slumped, dejected. He rubbed his eyes furiously.

"It won't go away," he snarled.

Jenny covered her mouth to silence a giggle. She wasn't trying to antagon—oh, hell, yes she was.

"Where were her _kids_?" he growled bitterly. "It's Tuesday. Who has sex in the middle of Tuesday?" he demanded irrationally.

"We do," Jenny answered automatically. "Four-oh-seven. Tuesday sex time," she deadpanned.

He shot her a withering look. The damn redhead just couldn't be serious about the horror of this situation.

Jenny smiled and leaned forward, getting very close to his ear.

"And Kelly does," she whispered sassily.

He jerked away and glared at her.

"This isn't funny, Jen!" he insisted loudly, again.

She nodded. And giggled. He glared.

"What!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up. "I personally find it hard to believe you've never walked in on Kelly before!"

"Because there were so many opportunities for that to happen while she lived here," he retorted sarcastically.

Jenny remained silent, her face suddenly blank.

"SHE HAD SEX IN MY HOUSE?" he shouted, catching on to the look on his wife's face.

"Of course not," Jenny answered solemnly.

She smirked.

Jethro groaned. He covered his eyes with both hands. He grit his teeth and removed his hand, turning to look at Jenny.

"I didn't get Betsy," he said glumly.

Jenny gave him a wide-eyed look.

"Understandable. You were fleeing the scene of an outrageous act of sin between two happily married adults."

He rolled his eyes and stood up. He gave her a petulant, annoyed look—he could kick himself for expecting to find unmitigated sympathy from her. He decided to go deal with Lucy, in an effort to cleanse his psyche.

"You wouldn't think this was funny if you'd walked in on your parents," he growled aggressively, trying to find some situation to equate with his. He started to storm off. She waved her hand blithely.

"I walked in on those lovebirds four times, they did not like doors," she remarked airily. He marched away, resolutely ignoring her. He heard her muse: "Or _beds_, for that matter…"

* * *

><p>"What the hell, Kelly?" Timothy McGee demanded of his wife, sitting gingerly on the edge of their bed.<p>

His wife, considerably flustered, chucked a bathroom towel at him, in the middle of yanking on a robe haphazardly.

She gave him a disbelieving look, her cheeks flushed with embarrassed blood.

"My _father_," she hissed.

"What?" asked Tim in exasperation. He was slightly annoyed at the less than satisfactory dénouement of their weekly tryst-during-toddler's-naptime.

He was understandably unaccustomed to Kelly hysterically yelling at him to 'get out' and not only shoving him away from her, but bolting into the bathroom.

She threw his jeans at him.

"Get dressed," she ordered.

He gave her an irritated look.

"You yelled at me to _get_ _out_," he accused, offended. "You're on the pill; I'm not going to knock you up."

"Oh, for the sake of all that is holy," swore Kelly, staring at him. Her cheeks flushed a little more. "I didn't want _you_ to _pull_ out; I wanted _Dad_ to _get_ out!"

Tim's fingers slipped in buttoning his jeans and looked up at her, a strange look passing over his face.

"Did you say your—"

"Yes!"

"Your Dad saw-?"

"He was standing in the doorway," Kelly cried, throwing her hands up. "I was on my hands and _knees_," she moaned, covering her face in shame.

Tim squeaked, looking pale. He could only imagine the horrible things Kelly's father was going to inflict upon him at their next meeting. He may have been married to Kelly Gibbs for going on four years now, but he was still convinced her father was under the impression his daughter was celibate.

"How did I not see him?" Tim asked, his voice rising in panic.

"You close your eyes when we're having sex!" Kelly accused, glaring at him. "_Now_ do you understand why I don't like it?"

"Oh, yes, _Kel_, because now I understand that you're _constantly_ expecting your Dad to bust in on us!" he fired back sarcastically. He rolled his eyes and gave her an annoyed look. Now was not a time to be talking sexual preferences. Now was CRISIS time.

"You're going to wake Shannon up," hissed Kelly, picking her jeans up off the floor. Tim fished around for his shirt.

"Levi gets off the bus in ten minutes," Tim said dejectedly. "We don't have time to finish," he grumbled, unhappy. Tuesdays was their day off, per the new NCIS assignments and schedule. It was a good day. Usually.

"You mean _I_ don't have time to finish," Kelly corrected unhappily, buttoning a shirt up in frustration.

"I am going to kill Daddy," she growled. "That is the third time in a week I haven't—"

"Hello!"

Cheerily, Shannon McGee skipped into the room, her clothes and hair all rumpled from her afternoon nap. She smiled brightly and dove immediately into her father's lap, snuggling up to him and blinking brightly.

"Nap over," she announced proudly. "Brother!" she shouted. Levi was generally home when she awoke from her nap.

"Levi isn't home yet," Tim said absently, kissing the top of his daughter's head.

He looked at his wife. She stood there looking mortified and annoyed and traumatized all at once. He kind of felt the same way. But he thought…it was kind of funny, too, because Kelly looked so cute.

"What are we going to do about it, Kelly." he asked hesitantly.

Shannon jumped onto the floor and dashed over to Kelly, hugging her excitedly and grabbing her hand, beginning to drag her away, probably to play with her new Barbie dolls.

"We are never, ever, _ever_ going to interact with Dad again. Ever. Understand me? For all he knows, we moved to Narnia because Shannon followed a white stag into an impenetrable fortress."

Kelly allowed herself to be dragged into the playroom.

Tim raised his eyebrows.

Melodramatic, much?

* * *

><p>Leroy Jethro Gibbs was not happy to be sitting in his car at the present moment in time; partly because his car was being driven by his mentally unstable harpy of a wife and partly because of where his car was taking him.<p>

"Stop pouting. You are setting a bad example for The Offspring," ordered The Harpy.

Jethro glared at her, turning his head very slowly.

She had coerced him into this car. It had started with Lucy asking, with big, blue puppy eyes, if they could go get ice cream. Of course, he said yes. Then, as he was retrieving shoes and keys, that precious little girl of his had let it slip excitedly that they were _going to get Betsy_.

The ice cream was a cover.

Jenny was taking him to Kelly's house.

And he was trapped.

Lucy was singing happily in the backseat.

"…I wants it _thaaaaaaaaat_ waaaaaaaaaaaaay…" she trilled sweetly, slurring words together in her baby voice; she didn't really know the words to that irritating Backstreet Boys song.

He was so unhappy with the thought of setting foot in Kelly's house, and so pissed at Jenny-the-Harpy for pinching him again to get him in the car, that he forgot to be pissed that DiNozzo had taught Lucy that song.

"What exactly did you plan on doing, love?" Jenny asked patronizingly. "Avoiding them forever?"

Jethro mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like 'Witness Protection Program'. Jenny laughed shortly, checking Lucy in the rearview mirror.

"TELL ME WHY!" shrieked Lucy—but the "ll" sound came out as kind of a "w".

"Ain't nothin' but a heartache…" sang Jenny compliantly.

Lucy giggled appreciatively and went on. Jenny reached over and squeezed Jethro's knee. She shot him a wicked-sympathetic look.

"There is not a thing to worry about. We'll pop over, grab Betsy, congratulate them on their ability to get freaky with two rambunctious children, and move on with our lives."

Jethro glared at her. She laughed.

He sunk down in his seat, glaring stubbornly out the front window. He did not think this was necessary. He personally felt he should avoid Kelly for a few weeks, and then awkwardly ignore the subject until everyone forgot it happened.

That was how he worked.

Lucy continued to sing in her car seat, swaying back and forth, excited to be out at night. It was a rare adventure for the two-year-old. She thrust out her arm and squealed, breaking off.

"Weeeeeeee-vi!" she shrieked, clapping. She recognized Levi's house even in the darkening light, and laughed happily.

Jenny glanced at Lucy.

"It really bugs me that she won't say her 'L's," she muttered, unconcerned with the fact that Jethro's life was falling apart.

* * *

><p>Life was not calm in the McGee household, that much could be deduced by standing on the front porch. One kid was screaming, and one might have been crying. Or, it might have been the same kid alternating, but Jenny rang the doorbell an obnoxious six times to make sure they were heard.<p>

The door swung open violently.

"GUNNY!" shrieked Levi wildly, throwing himself at Jenny and waving at Jethro. He needed a damn haircut, Jethro noted. The boy was approaching ten this year, and some kids at school had convinced him long hair was "cool".

For some ridiculous reason, Kelly seemed to allow that nonsense.

"Shannon won't let Mom or Dad put her in the bath," Levi informed immediately, hauling Lucy up and marching back into the house. He dragged his, well, technically his aunt, off the play dutifully.

"Lu-Lu! You left Betsy here!" they heard him say. He was good with the babies; his sister and Lucy, as well.

Jenny kicked the door shut behind her.

Kelly walked into the entrance and paused.

She stared blankly in front of her. Jethro stared blankly back. Each refused to acknowledge the other's presence. She spoke, finally, in a controlled voice:

"You two know you don't have to knock," she spoke more to Jenny, looking frazzled by the door bell's incessant and unnecessary ringing.

Jenny smiled benignly.

"Jethro learned today that we don't barge into people's houses unannounced," the redhead answered, as if narrating a children's show.

Kelly stared at her.

"Oh. My. God," she muttered, turning and stalking out of the room, shaking her head. Her cheeks flushed.

Jethro turned and glared at Jenny.

He was mortified, but he was also kind of angry she embarrassed Kelly like that.

Jenny grabbed Jethro's bicep and dragged him in to the house cheerfully.

"Daughter-in-law, where is your virile young husband this evening?" Jenny asked brightly, glancing around the children's-toy-filled family room expectantly.

Kelly glared at her. Jethro stood there blankly again.

"He is chasing a half naked toddler around the house," Kelly answered grittily. "Shannon decided about fifteen minutes ago that she hates baths."

"Lucy hates baths on Sundays and Fridays," Jenny sympathized.

Kelly smiled tightly.

Shannon gleefully stumbled into the room, wriggling away from Tim's weak grasp and navigating through the toys, wearing a Pull-Up and one sock.

"No no no no no BATH!" she chanted.

"Kelly, grab her," snapped Tim, evidently annoyed that she was just letting the errant child dart past. "What are you—_blurgh_," he broke off, paling considerably at the sight of his father-in-law.

He was convinced for a couple split seconds that Kelly's father was here to castrate him. He shook his head, realizing that was preposterous. He wouldn't have brought Jenny or Lucy.

Jenny smirked. She seemed to be the only adult in the room gleefully enjoying herself.

Tim cleared his throat.

"Er, hello, Mr. Gib—Jethro. Sir—"

"Shut-up," Kelly ordered, rolling her eyes.

Silence fell again. Except for Shannon's giggling, and the noise Lucy and Levi made. Lucy appeared, contentedly hugging the doll, Betsy.

"We came for Betsy," Jethro announced roughly.

Kelly nodded.

"Levi was keeping Betsy for Lucy," she said. "Betsy was _not_ in our bedroom," she added under her breath.

"Your unlocked, door-cracked-open bedroom," growled Jethro.

"Contrary to Jethro's belief, Kelly, we came so as to allow Jethro to formally acknowledge that Tim and yourself engage in sexual activity, therefore relieving him of his nonsensical delusions of your virginity," Jenny said sweetly, and diplomatically. "And alleviate the awkwardness of the situation."

"Nothing will make this less awkward," Tim remarked seriously.

Jethro shot him a vicious glare.

He clamped his mouth shut, shuffling back some. Jenny elbowed her husband.

"You still think I'm a virgin?" hissed Kelly, rolling her eyes. "I have _two_ children!"

Jethro covered his ears.

Kelly rolled her eyes, cheeks flushing.

She glared at Jenny instead.

"There is nothing to talk about. Forget it," she said.

Jethro looked ferociously at Jenny, nodding emphatically.

"Da Da," Lucy announced, wriggling up to his leg. "Betsy is home," she said, cradling the baby doll. "Ice cweam?"

"Why won't you say your 'R's?" Jenny asked her seriously, out of the blue. She stared at the little redhead, puckering her lips curiously. She looked up expectantly, rolling her eyes when she noticed no one looking at each other.

"Look at the sunny side," she said slowly, an impish smile flickering across her lips. "At least he saw you with your _husband_."

Kelly and Tim both glared at Jenny.

"This needs to just be awkward for a few days," Kelly said dully. "Then we can forget it ever happened."

"Your father will never forget this egregious offense to his eyesight," Jenny deadpanned.

Kelly rolled her eyes, clearly mortified, still, and just glared at him, her eyes flashing.

"For God's sake, Daddy, you saw us having sex. Get over it."

Jethro didn't even have time to react in a horrified, childish manner, because Levi pretty much took care of that for him.

"You guys were having sex? NO! EW! You aren't allowed!" Levi, standing in the doorway, had caught the tail end of the conversation and, being a fourth grader with rudimentary knowledge of the act, naturally balked at the idea of his parents engaging in it.

And thus, from that point on, it was arguable as to which was more traumatic: what Levi Michael McGee heard, or what Leroy Jethro Gibbs saw.

* * *

><p><em>-Oh my god. I amuse myself. <em>


End file.
